Wesley Corpus

Still the small inward voice I hear, That whispers all my sins forgiv'n: Still th' attoning blood is near, That quench'd the wrath of hostile heav'n: I feel the life his wounds impart, I feel my Saviour in my heart. No condemnation now I dread, Jesus, and all in him, is mine: Alive in him, my living head, And cloath'd in righteousness divine, Bold I approach th' eternal throne, And claim the crown, thro' Christ, my own.